On My Mind
by balladsinthebluegrass
Summary: Rick figures out where his affection lie. Adult situations.
1. Chapter 1

"I'm telling you that I'm only looking out for you," Rick growled. "Isn't that what I promised to do?"

"Yes," Jessie admitted, staring unflinchingly in his eyes. "But you have to stop coming around here like this, checking on me, offering to take me out for 'training.' My boys are playing video games upstairs, but they could come down here any minute and see you!"

"It's a small community. Kinda hard to avoid bumping into one another," Rick argued.

Jessie shook her head. "It's one thing for them to see you out on the street or working on a project. But you showing up at my front door, inviting yourself into my living room..." she lowered her voice. "Please, would you just go for now? You can come back later tonight when the boys are asleep. If Ron comes down here and sees you... I don't know what he'll do."

Rick sighed. _I didn't realize I'd have to jump through hoops like this_ , he thought. But he said out loud, "Fine. Later tonight. Midnight?"

"Better make it more like one o'clock," Jessie said. "Ron stays up late most nights. He... he doesn't sleep well these days."

Rick nodded tersely and stepped out the open front door into the evening air on the porch. "One o'clock", he repeated and set off for his own home.

When he walked in the door, an irresistible savory smell met his nostrils. He breathed in the heavy smell of spice and cooked meat. Following his nose, he made his way to the dining room where he found Carl, Carol, and Michonne gathered around the table. Judith was in her high chair, messily spooning her meal into her mouth and mostly missing, while Morgan was in the kitchen, apparently helping himself to seconds.

"Mmm..." Rick breathed out. "What did you make for dinner tonight, Carol? I haven't smelled anything so good in a long time."

Carol looked slightly uncomfortable for a second before giving Michonne a small smile. "Actually, I had the evening off. Michonne made dinner for us tonight."

Rick raised an eyebrow and directed his own smile toward the dark-skinned beauty as she attempted to help his daughter get more food in her mouth than her hair. "Is that so?"

Michonne turned her gaze to him and nodded, a subdued but pleased look on her face. "There should be plenty, even after feeding Morgan. Help yourself," she said, pointing towards the kitchen, while Morgan sat down at the table, laughing good-naturedly at her ribbing.

Ambling over to the stove, Rick picked up a plate and served himself a heaping portion of everything. He grabbed utensils and a napkin off the countertop before joining everyone else in the dining room. He seated himself at the table across from Michonne. Cautiously, he blew on a steaming-hot forkful before putting it in his mouth. His eyes closed and his head tilted back with pleasure at the flavor filling his mouth.

"Tastes even better than it smells!" he exclaimed, and Michonne treated him to one of her thousand-watt smiles. "I had no idea you could cook so well," Rick went on.

"My dad taught me how to make this dish. The cornmeal porridge is called _sadza_. I fried the fish Daryl brought us back in the traditional way, along with some vegetables from the community garden," Michonne explained, spooning a bite into Judith's open mouth. "Mom was a great cook, too, but she left this dish to Dad. It was his specialty."

Rick suddenly realized he'd never heard her talk about her parents before. The usual questions, like _Where are your parents now?_ or _How are they doing these days?_ no longer applied, and Rick didn't know what to say for a moment. But then he offered genuinely, "I'm very glad he taught you."

Michonne's smile turned sad. "He was a good man. He taught me a lot of things before he died."

"How did he die?" Rick asked quietly.

"Oh, it was a long time ago. Before the world went to shit, thankfully. I'm glad he didn't have to live through all of this," Michonne sighed. "Anyways, we lost him when I was 17, the summer before I headed off to college. He worked in a factory, and some ex-employee nut job with a score to settle came in and shot some people, including the boss. My dad was that boss."

Rick nodded. "I'm very sorry for your loss." He meant it with all his heart, too.

Michonne could see the deep sincerity in his eyes. "We've all lost a lot of people. It doesn't hurt now like it used to."

"Why is that?" Morgan mused aloud around a mouthful. "Is it true that time heals all wounds? Do we eventually forget just how significant these people were to us?"

With that, the mood around the table grew somber. Michonne spoke up. "I think we find others to love, others who love us." She met Rick's eyes as she continued, "We fill up the ache in our hearts with those that we love. They bring us back."

Morgan stood up and pushed his chair away from the table. He cleared his throat as he did so, drawing Michonne's gaze away from Rick. "It's my turn to wash the dishes, but I would love some company. Michonne, I've been meaning to speak with you about something. Would you join me?" he requested.

She nodded, her dreads swaying, and followed Morgan into the kitchen. As she walked away, Judith began to fuss and reach for her. She stopped, but Rick smiled and waved her on. "You go ahead. I've hardly seen my sweet baby all day. I'll get her." Still, Rick's heart swelled to realize how attached his daughter had become to Michonne, and even more at the thought of how she was just as attached to Judith.

Rick heard the sounds of water splashing quietly, dishes being jumbled around in the sink, and a quiet conversation between his two friends that he couldn't quite make out. He pulled Judith from her high chair and sat her on his lap while he forked more of Michonne's delicious food into his mouth. Just then, Judith created a very loud noise inside her diaper that surely signaled a need for a change.

"Here, Dad," Carl laughed, reaching for his little sister. "You just sat down a couple of minutes ago. I'll clean her up."

Rick smiled thankfully at his son and kept eating until his two children had made their way upstairs.

He swallowed, turned to Carol, and said, "I have to go out late tonight. I'm not sure how long I'll be gone. Carl can handle Judith just fine if she wakes up in the night, but he might be concerned if he wakes up and I'm not here. If he knocks on your bedroom door looking for me, just tell him I'm fine, taking care of some business, and I'll be home later."

Carol raised an eyebrow. "Can I ask where you're going?"

Rick met her gaze for a moment before replying, "I'm heading over to Jessie's to check on her."

Nodding, Carol sighed, "That's what I thought. Tell me, this late night visit of yours... is it going to turn into a sleepover?"

"That's not your business, Carol."

"Keeping an eye on your kids makes it my business. I ought to know whether to expect you home at all or not."

"No, I don't... I don't think anything like that will happen, so I'll probably be home after an hour or so. And..." Rick glanced towards the kitchen again as the sound of laughter floated from the other room. "Keep this to yourself, please."

"Of course."

Later that evening, Rick was sitting up in bed, reading a book, when he caught sight of Michonne walking through the hallway. "On your way to bed?" he called to her.

She stopped, turned into his room, and stood by his bed. "Yeah... what are you reading?"

For a moment, Rick forgot how to answer, her bedtime attire turned his head so. Her tiny shorts left her long, lean, muscular legs bare and wrapped snug around her pelvis, where the low waistband left several inches of her taut belly exposed. Her spaghetti-strap tank top was skin-tight and made of some sort of fabric lightweight enough to in no way conceal the shape of her braless breasts, so obviously round and firm. Rick struggled to look at her face, but his eyes were drawn irresistibly to the two peaks of her nipples, and he flushed as he realized there was only a very thin layer of fabric separating them from his longing gaze.

"Rick?" Michonne smiled down at him, bemused. "Did you even hear what I said?"

Rick cleared his throat and turned his attention on Michonne's face, willing his eyes, and his mind, to behave. "It's called _'Till We Have Faces_ , by C.S. Lewis."

"Oh, I've never read it." Michonne was intrigued. "I loved _The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe_ when I was a little girl, though."

"Well, this is no children's story. It's about learning to love with a pure heart, loving someone for who they are, rather than letting our own desires twist them into who we want them to be."

Sitting down on his bed, she replied, "Sounds like heavy stuff."

"Yeah... but there's something I want to ask you, if I can?" Rick changed the topic.

"Sure, of course."

"What did Morgan speak with you about earlier?"

Michonne looked surprised that Rick asked. She sighed and lay down on her belly, stretching herself out on the mattress. Her position let him see straight down the neckline of her tank top at her ample cleavage, and Rick allowed himself a peek every now and then when he thought she wouldn't notice.

"Well," she began hesitantly. "He... he asked me out on a date."

"A date?" Rick sputtered, tilting his head to one side. Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn't this. "How on earth would he take you on a _date_? Didn't he notice that all the restaurants have closed up shop? Oh, and you can't exactly go dancing, because we can't play music, because _the noise draws the walkers to the walls_!" Rick realized his voice was rising, but he didn't know how to stop himself. This crazy, foolish notion of Morgan and Michonne out somewhere on a date was so preposterous, so totally unexpected, that Rick felt himself growing angry at the idea.

"Well, I thought it was a little silly at first myself, but he suggested packing a picnic basket tomorrow night and finding a nice spot by the lake where we can sit and talk." Michonne shrugged, and one spaghetti strap slipped off her shoulder. "It sounds romantic, actually. It's very thoughtful of him."

Michonne seemed completely unaware of the extra bit of skin she had just exposed to Rick. He suddenly felt like he couldn't breathe or think clearly. He wanted to stand up and walk to the bathroom to splash some water on his face, but he didn't dare move from underneath the blanket that was covering his lap. Though she had a penchant for clothes that revealed her figure, he had never seen his friend dressed quite like this, and it had a considerable effect on his manhood. Standing up could be... embarrassing. He settled for closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose instead, and tried to keep his tone level. "And I suppose you accepted?"

Michonne saw right through his efforts to remain calm. "Rick, what has gotten into you tonight? You're not still concerned that Morgan isn't safe, are you? He's been sleeping right downstairs on our couch for the last several nights."

"No, no, it's not that," Rick hedged. "I just wasn't expecting... I never really thought of the two of you together."

Michonne sat up straight and pushed the strap of her top back into place. "Well... I've been alone for a long time, you know. And he's a nice guy. Not bad-looking at all. He's downright handsome when he smiles. I figured, maybe something could work there."

"Yeah," Rick breathed out, looking at his hands.

"If nothing else, maybe I'll at least get laid."

Rick gave her a look of absolute, wide-eyed horror. "Michonne, I've never heard you talk that way."

"I didn't mean on the first date, of course. Well, probably not, anyways. But, seriously, Rick. I miss sex. Don't you?"

Rick almost pulled her down on top of him right then and there. Only the thought of all the possible fallout from a rash decision made in lust stopped him. He just stared into her dark eyes, not trusting himself to respond. Michonne looked at him soberly.

"You're obviously upset. But," she lowered her voice, "it's hard for me to understand why since you're pursuing something yourself these days, Rick." She sighed and ran her hands down the front of her thighs. "I'm not sure what you're expecting from me here."

"I'm not _pursuing_ anything," Rick said defensively.

"You can call it what you want." She stood up from the bed. "I think... I think I should go to bed now. Goodnight, Rick." And with that, she turned and walked towards his doorway. He groaned inwardly at the sight of her ass, barely covered by those shorts. Her cheeks were so round and robust that an image flashed through his thoughts of his erect cock sliding between them. And they were naked in his minds' eye. All in a moment, his mind had her whole body naked, and she was moaning beneath him, clinging to his arms as he slid his dick back and forth between her dripping-wet folds. He wanted to hear his name on her lips, wanted to leave her weak with satisfaction that only he could give her.

He shook his head. What the hell was he thinking? She was his best friend, his confidant, and a mother figure to his children. She was his right-hand woman, his trusted advisor, his most skillful warrior. How could he be letting his mind wander off into sex-filled fantasies of her? True, he'd long admired Michonne's ass, and had even wondered in passing what she would be like in bed, but he had never lusted after her like this. Their conversation, and her state of undress during it, made him want to pound her into the mattress. The thought of someone else making love to her made him want to pound his fist through the wall.

"Goodnight, Michonne." His voice was low and gravelly. He waited until he heard her shut her bedroom door before he moved from beneath the blanket to close his own. After shutting and locking the door, he glanced at the digital alarm clock on the nightstand. It read 11:35 pm. _Plenty of time to take care of this_ , he thought as he stripped off his boxer briefs and wrapped a hand around his aching erection.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Part 1

After Rick had cleaned up and dressed, he headed downstairs. He found Morgan lounging on the couch, working on a book of crossword puzzles. His friend glanced up as Rick came down the stairs.

"Car maker named for a physicist?" Morgan questioned him. "Five letters long?"

"Tesla," Rick replied as he sat down on the couch.

"Ah," Morgan nodded, scratching in the answer with his pencil.

Rick wasn't sure where to begin, so they sat in silence while Morgan continued to fill in answers. Eventually, Rick quietly ventured, "You and Michonne, huh?"

Morgan observed him over the top of his crossword puzzle for a moment, then sat the book and pencil down on the living room table. "It's not precisely 'her and me.' I think it's a bit premature to put that label to it. I requested her company for the evening and she accepted." Morgan paused, taking in Rick's troubled expression. "I was under the impression that the two of you are not together. Not romantically, I mean."

Rick sighed, "We're not."

"Perhaps the situation is a bit more complicated than that, though?"

"If it is, I'm fairly sure it's one-sided."

Thoughtfully peering at his friend, Morgan said, "I didn't intend any offense, Rick, and I hope you know that. I believed that you had taken an interest towards the widow of that man you killed. I'll call off the date if you want me to. Our friendship is more important to me than the possibility of a romance."

Rick remained still for a long moment, not speaking. Eventually, he noted in a low voice, "I see you still wear your wedding ring."

"I see you still wear yours," Morgan returned immediately.

"Why do you keep yours on?"

"I haven't met the right person to take it off for yet. One day, I hope to have a good reason to lay it aside. Why do you wear yours?"

Rick sighed and twisted the gold band on his finger. "I was so broke when I asked Lori to marry me, I had to borrow the money from my dad to buy our rings. We were young, hardly more than kids. I spent the first two years of our marriage paying him back. Paid back every cent, though." Rick felt a lump rising in his throat. "I never got hers back... cut that walker open and dug all through its stomach, but I never found her ring..." His voice trailed off.

Morgan didn't offer a response. He sat in sober silence and listened as his friend continued.

"I know it doesn't mean anything anymore, or at least not what it used to mean. But it just doesn't feel right to take it off." Rick scratched his ear thoughtfully. "Maybe it's just a habit, but it feels like I should have it on."

Both men were quiet for a long moment before Rick stood up. "Don't call off your date. Michonne wouldn't have accepted if she didn't want it. It's her decision, not mine."

Morgan raised his eyebrows. "If you're sure."

"Yeah. Listen, just... uhm... don't try to get her in bed, okay?"

For a moment, Morgan was sure he had to be joking. However, his expression seemed to say he was dead serious. Rick's head was cocked to the side, and his eyes were narrowed.

"I don't even have a bed," Morgan pointed out.

Rick immediately responded, "She has one."

"Yes, and there are four other occupied bedrooms up there, too. That's hardly private. Besides, I have every intention of being a gentleman," he assured him.

Rick nodded. "Good. Because I'm not sure I could wrap my head around it." With that, Rick sauntered across the room and reached for his boots which stood by the front door.

"It's rather late to go out for a walk, isn't it?" Morgan questioned, picking up his crossword puzzle book again.

"I have something to take care of," Rick replied as he stepped onto the front porch.

The night air was cool without being chilly. Rick's long-sleeved twill shirt was enough to keep him warm. As he ambled down the sidewalk, he noticed Daryl making his way towards the house. His motorcycle was turned off so as not to disturb the neighbors at such a late hour, and he was walking it home. Both men slowed down as they neared one another.

"Hell of a time to be getting back in," Rick noted.

"Aaron and I get done when we get done. What's wrong?"

"Nothing. What makes you ask that?"

"Not like you to be out so late. Sure nothin's goin' on?"

"Just out to visit a friend."

"Well, you look like hell. It's all over your face that you're pissed about something."

Rick was surprised. His conversations with his two friends had disturbed him, but he didn't realize he was being so transparent. "Well, I found out that Michonne is going out on a date with Morgan tomorrow night. Just a little surprised by it, is all."

Daryl peered at him through his shaggy hair and thought for a long moment, then replied, "Pretty girl like that, I wouldn't think she'd stay single for long now that we've settled down."

 _Damn it if I'm not the last person to expect this_ , Rick thought. All he said was, "Yeah, I guess so."

They stood in the street for a long moment before Rick suggested, "You should get on home. There's leftovers in the fridge. Michonne made one hell of a dinner."

Daryl rolled his bike into the driveway while Rick continued towards Jessie's house, his head full of thoughts. He was confused and unsure of what direction his life was taking. When he'd arrived in Alexandria, Jessie had immediately grabbed his attention. She was friendly and pretty in a girl-next-door kind of way, the kind of woman he would have gone for every time in his old life. And she had seemed untainted by all the ugliness outside the walls. However, he had come to find out that she had been living with an ugliness inside the walls of her own home. Rick had eliminated that threat, yet he couldn't help but wonder at what cost? His whispered, hurried conversation with Jessie earlier in the day came back to him. Her sons obviously despised him, and he could hardly blame them. He wasn't sorry in the slightest for killing Pete, but he also knew that he couldn't expect Sam and Ron to understand. Their dad was their dad, and he was the man who had taken their dad away. Rick could feel the gravity of that like a weight on his head and shoulders. He kept walking.

Jessie was no longer the pretty, carefree girl he believed her to be when he first met her. Neither was she the woman cowering in fear of her own husband, desperately needing his help. She was on her own now, and Rosita was teaching her how to shoot and fight, and always the matter of her sons was at the forefront of his mind when he thought of her. Rick wasn't sure what he and Jessie were doing with each other, what they would even say to one another when he got to her house, but he felt himself being drawn there irresistibly anyways. He had placed himself right in the center of this family's life, and he couldn't act like he had no responsibility to them, couldn't ignore Jessie.

Rick reached her block and turned the corner onto her street. _Besides_ , he sighed inwardly, _it's been a long time._ How long? He had to think about it for a moment before coming up with the answer. He hadn't been touched by a woman, hadn't touched a woman, since around the time Judith was conceived, and that was over a year and a half ago. Never mind sex, he'd be content to have a warm embrace and perhaps a kiss. He was lonely, he knew it. Now that he no longer had to worry about avoiding starvation or finding shelter or facing imminent attacks by an enemy, he found himself longing for the comfort of a woman's arms. Perhaps that's what was causing his sudden confusion over Michonne. She was beautiful, of course, he'd always known that. More than beautiful, gorgeous. Flawless. Maybe his testosterone was just in overdrive. Maybe Jessie could give him what he needed.

He stepped up to her front door and was about to knock quietly when it opened. She had been waiting for him.

Part 2

Jessie's tongue was in his mouth, and her fingers were in his hair. Her weight straddling him made his body feel uncomfortably hot under his jeans and shirt. He squeezed his eyes shut and kissed her back. They had sat on her couch for a time while Jessie filled him on the difficulties she and her boys had experienced over the last couple of weeks since Pete's death. Her tears had spilled over, and Rick had reached for her to comfort her. One thing had quickly led to another, and now here she was in his lap, her hands exploring under his shirt.

Rick felt deeply disturbed even as their mouths were pressed together. It didn't feel right for matters to be progressing so quickly between them. He wanted the pleasure she was offering him, but he knew there was a price. There was always a price. Every time he closed his eyes, he pictured Lori's face, and then Michonne's. He no longer knew what the hell he was doing.

He pulled his head back, away from her enthusiastic tongue, and gasped, "Jessie, please."

She sat back slightly but showed no signs of moving from her position on his lap. In fact, she moved her hips slightly against his groin as she waited for him to say something.

He removed his hands from her waist, placing them on the couch cushions at either side. "I can't do this. I can't." He was no longer at all sure that she was the one he was supposed to be with.

"Rick," she said breathily, and gazed into his eyes longingly. Her eyes held the promise of making him feel good, of enabling him for a time to shut out the pain and fear he struggled daily to keep at bay. He suddenly, desperately wanted to lose himself. He wanted warmth and moisture and release. He gave in.

Rick pushed her onto the couch on her back and covered her body with his. His lips sought hers in a rough kiss while he ground his hips between her legs, which were spread wide for him. He kissed down her neck and frantically worked to undo the buttons of her blouse. He'd unfastened the first two and was kissing at her cleavage when they both heard a door squeak loudly on its hinges upstairs.

"Rick, get off me! Quick!" Jessie whispered urgently.

He was confused by her sudden countermand, pulled unpleasantly back into reality by the interruption, but he obliged her by sitting up.

"Mom?" Ron's voiced floated down the stairway. "Are you down here?"

"Get in the closet!" Jessie ordered, gesturing to the small doorway next to the couch.

Rick demanded in a harsh whisper, "What the hell, Jessie? The fucking closet?"

"He can't see you down here. I don't know what he'll do. Please, please just do this for me. Just get in the closet!"

Jessie practically shoved him in just as Ron reached the landing of the staircase, closing the door as silently as she could. It was pitch black inside and Rick could only hear what was happening in the living room.

"I thought I heard voices," he heard Ron say.

"No, no one is here," Jessie replied. "I dozed off on the couch, but I woke up when I heard you calling me. I'll head upstairs to bed soon."

Ron nodded. "Alright, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. We've had enough shit happen to last this family a lifetime."

"Ron, please, your language."

"Yeah, sorry, Mom... g'night."

"Goodnight, sweetie."

The closet occupied the space under the stairway, and Rick could hear Ron's footsteps as he headed back upstairs. Jessie waited until Ron had closed his door before she let Rick out.

Rick stepped out of the closet and stared at her silently.

"I'm sorry to do that to you, really, I am," she whispered. "But he can't know about us. You don't understand what it would do to him."

"So your plan is to keep inviting me over in the middle of the night and hiding me in one of your closets?" Rick's reply was a low rumble. His hands were on his hips, his weight on one leg as he looked at her challengingly.

"I don't really have a plan here, Rick. Both of us are figuring this out, aren't we?"

"I won't be hid away like a terrible secret, Jessie," Rick hissed, his gaze fiery.

She sucked in a breath. "If you think that I'm going to tell them that I'm in a relationship with their father's executioner, you need to think again. There's no way I can do that. They won't understand. No one in this entire town will understand."

"What are you saying to me here, Jessie?" Rick demanded. "Just say it right out, will you?"

"I am not going public with us. That will not happen."

Rick stared into her eyes for a long moment, his jaw clenching and unclenching. This was a familiar feeling for him: nothing he said or did was good enough to avoid being rejected by the woman in front of him. Lori had done it to him so many times, and here he was, allowing himself to be put in the same situation all over again. Different person, different circumstances, but the same result and the same feeling.

"There is no 'us.' This ends now." Rick's eyes glittered coldly at her.

Jessie could only stare back, her eyes wide and mouth agape in shock. He had been the one to pursue her all this time. She had been so sure that he would agree to have her secretly if he couldn't have her any other way. She watched, dumbfounded, as he stalked out her front door.

When the door closed, Jessie sank down onto the couch and covered her face with her hands, tears falling silently down her cheeks.

Part 3

Rick's emotions were jumbled on his walk home. He was irritated with Jessie for treating him like a monstrosity that had to be hidden away, but he primarily cursed himself for allowing the whole situation with her to happen at all. First, he's lusting after Michonne, then he's on the verge of fucking an obviously vulnerable woman? _Get a grip, Grimes_ , he inwardly lectured himself. _Keep it in your freaking pants._ He possessed a libido as strong as any healthy grown man, but he had always taken pride in his self-control. He'd been faithful to one woman his entire adult life. He never went to strip-clubs or looked at porn magazines like so many of the officers at the sheriff's station had done, even though his sex life with Lori had rarely been exciting after the honeymoon period. His cheeks burned with shame that he had let it go so far with Jessie. If Ron hadn't come down the stairs... He shook his head and cursed himself again.

Yet, if he was to be honest with himself, he knew his feelings for Michonne were completely different. They didn't inspire such shame and self-loathing. True, he was surprised at this unforeseen arrival of arduous desire for her. And yes, he felt conflicted about it given that she was showing some interest in his friend. But his longing for Michonne didn't feel dirty or wrong. Truth be told, it suddenly felt natural and right, the opposite of everything Jessie had just offered him. As he walked home, he realized that Michonne was at the center of everything that was good and true and sane in his life. When he was with her, he felt whole and at peace. He trusted her absolutely with everything and everyone he held dear. She was always beside him, lessening his burdens.

 _How could I be so blind all this time? Chasing ghosts of a past life that I didn't even like when everything I ever wanted was right in front of me the whole time._

As he strode up the front steps of his home and quietly unlocked the door, he made a promise to himself that he would talk to Michonne tomorrow. She was too important to him to let her slip through his fingers.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Michonne was up before dawn the next morning. She went through her usual exercise routine: a 30-minute run around the inside of the Safe Zone's walls, which provided the double benefit of a cardio workout and a perimeter check; 15 minutes of yoga poses in the backyard; and upper body and ab work on the pull-up bar attached to the outer frame of her bedroom closet. _Ready to face the day_ , she thought as she finished her last inverted sit up, grasping the bar with both hands and swinging her legs down. She stripped off her sweat-soaked clothes and headed for the shower. She loved her shower. Rick had insisted that she take the master bedroom with its en suite bathroom, and the shower was tiled in elegant gray marble. The showerhead had about fifteen different settings, and she dialed over to a pulsing blast that massaged some of the kinks out of her neck and shoulders. Working lavender-scented shampoo into a lather over her dreads, Michonne turned her mind to her conversation with Rick the prior evening. He seemed genuinely distressed over her decision to go on a date with Morgan, and knowing that he was upset caused her to feel greatly unsettled, too. She was by nature logical and practical, and she was confident that she could find the reason for his disquietude if she examined the possible causes.

Rick had already denied that he thought Morgan untrustworthy, so she could rule that out. It was possible that he was simply envious that she had a date for the evening and he did not, but she found that unlikely. As much as she tried to stay out of the situation, the unavoidable truth was that he was involved in some way with Pete's widow. There were whispers all over town about it even before Pete's execution, and now it was practically all the gossip mill had to talk about. People stopped midsentence whenever she walked into a room, but she had heard enough to know that most of the Alexandrians were scandalized by the notion that Rick had killed Pete to get to his wife. _Never mind the facts_ , she thought bitterly, wrinkling her nose in disgust. _Never mind that Deanna, their leader, was the one who gave the execution order._ She sincerely believed that Rick shot Pete because he had killed Reg, end of story. Still, that didn't mean there was nothing going on between her friend and the young blonde widow, so she thought she could rule out a case of misery loves company.

 _Perhaps he's afraid I'll pull away from him and the kids if I get involved with someone_ , she mused. After all, they were best friends. They lived together, worked together, and took care of the kids together. She loved his children like they were her own. She thought back to the previous afternoon, to the giggles and light-hearted conversation she and Rick and Carl had shared over a game of Monopoly prior to Rick's announcement that he was going over to check on Jessie before dinner. And the day before that, she and Rick had together taken Judith for a walk around town. Michonne had carried her strapped to her chest in an Ergo, and Rick had complimented her on looking like the perfect picture of motherhood. She had been glad her dark skin concealed her deep blush.

 _It makes sense_ , she reasoned. _Getting involved with someone else could really impact my relationship with Rick and his kids._ There were only twenty-four hours in a day, and she couldn't be in two places at once; if she was spending time alone with Morgan, she wouldn't be available during those times for anyone else. If she had a lover in bed with her, she probably wouldn't be up helping with Judith in the middle of the night. For that matter, she might end up eventually moving out so she could live with her boyfriend. She sighed as she poured body wash onto a bath pouf and scrubbed at her skin. _Ideally, my mate should be my best friend_ , _not another man,_ she thought. _Anyone I get serious with would be jealous of Rick. Wouldn't it be difficult for Rick and me to maintain this level of closeness? The people we eventually get with won't really be okay with it. That's a lot to ask from a boyfriend or girlfriend. 'Hey, I'm into you, and I want this to get serious, but you have to understand that you'll never be as close to me as this other person.' That's just weird._

Michonne stepped under the spray and let it wash the lather off her skin. _That has to be it. That must be why he's upset and doesn't want me to go on this date. I can tell he doesn't. He won't say it, but he doesn't. He's afraid we'll drift apart, get new priorities. All of this is very premature because it's entirely possible that nothing will end up developing between Morgan and me. But it must be on his mind. He knows I love him and love the kids, but it just wouldn't be the same if I'm romantically involved with someone._ She refused to let her mind dwell on the implied double standard.

 _That has to be it._

 _Unless..._ Her eyes narrowed.

 _No. No, there is no way._ _Okay, yes, there is one last possibility, but it's not really a possibility._ She picked up her shaving cream and began her shaving routine: her underarms first, then her legs, then her pubic mound. She liked the feeling of being completely smooth.

 _Not really,_ she repeated firmly to herself. _I gave up on that almost as soon as we got into Alexandria. Sure, it felt like there was something there, out on the road, but I must have been wrong. I haven't been the one turning his head ever since we got here. Well, there was that one time, right before the meeting. I was sure I felt sparks when we were talking and he was telling me about his crazy plan with Carol and Daryl. And I think... I think he might have shaved for me, too, though of course he probably just wanted to clean up now that he's back in civilization._

She sighed and washed off the shaving cream lather. _Look,_ she told herself firmly, _you already let that go. Didn't you decide that it must have been some sort of misunderstanding? You must have read him wrong, yeah? Isn't that what you decided? Don't let your mind go back there,_ she chided herself. _You've got a handsome man asking you out, clothes on your back, food in your belly, a roof over your head, a community to protect, friends that love you. Don't dwell on what you don't have. That can't be why he's upset. That can't be it._ She turned off the shower, stepped out, and wrapped herself in a towel.

 _That can't be it._


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Part 1

Michonne stepped from her bathroom, a fluffy purple towel wrapped around her damp, naked body, and began pulling clothes out of her chest of drawers. Pants, panties, socks, tank top... She rummaged around in the drawer. "Oh, seriously?" she muttered. "No clean bras?"

Her lack of bras was a serious problem. The Alexandrians had gathered up all the clothing in the unowned homes and used it to stock a community clothing closet located across the street from the pantry. Residents were free to go to the closet to get whatever they needed, and the supply was replenished with whatever was brought back from runs. Unfortunately, runs had become few and far between. In fact, the only goods coming in currently were what Aaron and Daryl brought with them when they returned from recruiting. There were precious few 32Bs available, and the bra Michonne had been wearing when she walked into the Safe Zone was practically in tatters. Though the thought of speaking to Daryl about her predicament made her laugh, she'd resolved to ask Aaron to bring her back a new bra the next time he went out. However, she hadn't gotten around to it yet. In total, she had been able to scare up two, and one of those two was in her hamper, drenched in sweat from her morning workout.

Michonne bit her bottom lip. It was Carl's turn to do the laundry for the household this week, and he wasn't as punctual about folding it and putting it away as he should be. She might have a clean bra waiting for her in the dryer down in the basement's laundry area. _Well_ , she sighed to herself. _I'll just have to go see._

She strode over to her bedroom door, opened it wide, and stepped into the hallway... directly into Rick, who had been standing right outside her door, his hand raised to knock. She bumped into him so hard that her towel came loose and fell to the floor. For a heart-stopping moment, she found herself completely naked while standing only inches away from her best friend.

"Michonne!" Rick whispered an exclamation, and he took in her bare form.

 _Move!_ Her brain was screaming. _Move, damn it, and pick up your towel!_ But she was paralyzed, so shocked both from her unexpected disrobing and the heat of Rick's eyes as they swept over her breasts, her belly, her pussy, her brain couldn't remember how to make her body move.

Suddenly, Rick glued his gaze to a spot somewhere near her feet. One of his eyebrows was half-raised, and his eyes had a distant look to them. He picked up her towel and wrapped it around her, all while keeping his eyes fixed on that one spot. "I'm sorry," he murmured. He turned away, walked stiffly to the hallway bathroom, and closed the door behind himself.

Michonne let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. _Goddamnit, but I certainly just made an ass of myself_. She tucked the towel more tightly around her body and headed down to the laundry room.

Inside the bathroom, Rick was holding on to the side of the sink so hard his knuckles had turned white. He leaned forward and rested his sweating forehead against the cool mirror. _She's even more beautiful than I'd imagined_ , he groaned inwardly. It had taken every ounce of his willpower to stop himself from pushing her into her room and down onto her bed so that he could fuck her relentlessly. _Self-control_ , he'd reminded himself when he had made the decision to avert his eyes. _Self-control._

 _Don't think with the wrong head,_ he preached to himself now. _That's what got you in trouble last night._ He knew that one wrong move, one step past the boundaries of what was acceptable between them right now could ruin his chances. He didn't want to scare her off or give her reason to think he only wanted her for sex. He wanted all of her, every part that made her who she was. Breathing in deep, calming breaths, he waited in the bathroom until his erection went down. He utterly refused to masturbate for the second time in less than twelve hours. _Self-control._

Part 2

Rick urgently wanted to speak with Michonne about his newly discovered feelings for her, but the day turned out to be far more hectic than he had expected. As soon as he stepped out of the bathroom into the hallway, he was greeted by the noise of someone banging on the front door. Father Gabriel was there, demanding he come see the crude and offensive scrawl someone had spray-painted on his church building. Rick had tried to keep a straight face when he saw "Good for nothing piece of shit!" painted in large electric-blue letters on the side of the chapel, but it was hard. Assuming the message was referring to Father Gabriel himself, Rick fully agreed. He kept his opinion to himself, however, and promised the priest that he would find the vandal responsible for defacing the building. In the meantime, he offered, he would ask Abraham about pulling a couple of guys from the construction crew tomorrow in order to task them with repainting that side of the chapel.

Having successfully assuaged Father Gabriel's wrath, Rick made his way toward his house. He'd missed breakfast, and his stomach was demanding he make it home in time for lunch. However, he was stopped in his tracks by Mikey. The teen spotted him on the sidewalk and raced towards him, waving his arms to get his attention. "Mr. Grimes! Mr. Grimes, sir!" he called out.

Rick turned around and marched towards the boy. "Mikey, what is it?"

Mikey was huffing from his run. "School - was about - to start - we were all getting - out - our history books -"

"Breathe, son, okay? Just take a moment and breathe."

Mikey caught his breath and continued urgently, "All of a sudden, Ron turns on Carl and starts hittin' him in the head! Mrs. Johnson sent me to come get you. She said come quick!"

Rick raced towards the garage that housed the Alexandria school. Mrs. Johnson, the thin middle-aged school teacher, greeted him at the door with a stern look on her face. "I tried to separate them," she explained, "But those boys are half-grown men and stronger than I am. Carl is inside, waiting for you. I told Ron to sit out on the front step, but he took off."

Entering the schoolhouse, Rick spotted Carl sitting in a chair next to the teacher's desk. His son had a two-inch long cut on one side of his face, and it looked like the area might bruise, but he seemed otherwise no worse for wear. Rick sighed and put his hands on his hips. "Well, let's get you on home, then."

When they stepped in the door, Carol took one look at Carl's damaged face and Rick's brooding expression before setting Judith in her playpen and fetching a bag of crushed ice from the freezer. Carl pressed it to his cheek and recounted the incident to his father as they sat at the dining room table. At first, his version of the story was very similar to Mikey's: he had been sitting at his desk, minding his own business when Ron stood up and punched him hard across the face. Carl had shoved him back and ordered him to stop, but Ron had advanced on him again, so he had given him a right hook directly in the nose.

"His face is probably messed up, Dad. There was a lot of blood. I'm... I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize for defending yourself if it was called for, son. If he instigated this and wouldn't back down, it's not your fault." Rick looked Carl steadily in the eyes and waited.

"Well, he did say one other thing," Carl hedged. "He accused me of stealing his girlfriend."

Rick was silent for a long moment. "Enid, right? Do you and her have something going on?"

"No... not really. We've been hanging out, more than she's been hanging out with Ron. But we haven't kissed or anything like that. She's _not_ my girlfriend, so I didn't steal her," Carl emphasized.

"Yeah," Rick sighed, rubbing the spot just above his eyebrows. "But apparently Ron doesn't see it that way. If she's spending time with you while she's avoiding him, you have understand what that looks like."

"They're not married, Dad. She can spend time with whoever she wants."

"Son, everything you're saying is true. Still, you have to remember that Ron just lost his father. You remember how hard it was for you when your mother died? It still hurts, doesn't it? Ron is experiencing all of that, brand new, right now. He's going to be a little mixed up. I understand that there's a lack of teenage girls around Alexandria, but you and Enid? That's just going to make things worse for Ron. You do see that, don't you?"

Carl hung his head and nodded.

"I'll go down to the Andersons and see what's going on with Ron. Hopefully, he did the smart thing and headed for home when he left the school building. Why don't you take the rest of the day off and rest? Enjoy your comics or a DVD. I think you've had enough excitement for one day."

"Thanks, Dad," Carl replied and headed upstairs to his room.

Rick found Carol wiping down the countertops in the kitchen. She had moved Judith from her playpen into the highchair and given her some wooden blocks to play with. Rick kissed the top of his daughter's head and built her a tower of blocks while he asked Carol, "Is Michonne around?"

"No, she headed out after breakfast. She had some constable duties to see to, I believe."

Rick nodded. The conversation he wanted to have with Michonne was still at the forefront of his mind, but it would have to wait.

"Make you a sandwich?" Carol offered.

Part 3

Though he loathed approaching the Anderson house again, he did his duty as a proper constable and checked on Ron. Jessie answered the door and told him through the screen in a markedly polite voice that her son had come home, and she would be taking care of him. His nose might be broken, but she would see to that. She would, of course, speak to Ron about the matter of picking the fight and urge him to apologize to Carl. With that, she thanked him for coming by and practically shut the door in his face.

Shrugging to himself, Rick walked off the Andersons' front porch. The less interaction he had with Jessie, the better, he reasoned as he set off in the darkening evening for home. He stopped by Abraham's house next door to his own to request assistance with the repainting of the chapel. The burly man promised to send two of his guys over in the morning to handle the job.

Rick walked across the yard and let himself in the front door. He strode directly up the stairs, eager to find Michonne. The door to her bedroom was open, and he rapped his knuckles against it. "Michonne?" he called out hopefully.

She poked her head out the doorway of her bathroom. "In here. Come on in."

Rick's heart skipped a beat when he saw her. She was getting ready for her date, and she was a vision of loveliness before him. Her strapless, crimson red dress skimmed the top of her thighs, and her dreads were swept up into an elegant bun. She was applying some lipstick the same color as her dress.

"You look so beautiful," he breathed, and she smiled her brilliant white smile at him in the mirror before turning to face him.

"Thank you, but, listen, about this morning —"

"No, don't... don't say anything. You don't have anything to explain or apologize for. Please, just... don't worry about it."

She smiled at him again. "Okay." She turned back to the mirror and began putting in a pair of gold earrings. "I spoke with Carl when I got home, and he told me what happened this afternoon. We had a long talk about girls."

"Yeah," Rick grimaced as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I tried to do that, too, but it was pretty awkward."

"I think fathers and sons are just like that most of the time," she shrugged. "Don't let it bother you."

"Not so long as I have you here to fill in the gaps," he said. He leaned against the wall opposite the mirror and let his eyes follow the length of her chocolate-brown legs up to the hem of her skirt. "That dress is a little short, don't you think?"

She turned back to him and raised an eyebrow. "You don't like it?"

"No, I love it, and that's the problem. Morgan will, too. You're really going to sit down on a picnic blanket in a skirt that short?"

"I think I can handle it."

"You are wearing panties, right?"

Michonne expression was shocked and pleased all at the same time, her eyes as wide as her smile. "Rick! What a thing to ask me!"

"Well, you are, right?" Rick pressed.

"It's not enough for you to be a constable; now, you have to be the panty police, too, huh?" she teased him with a flirtatious grin.

"Only when it comes to you. I don't give a damn about other people, but I have to make sure you're modest if you're out with another guy."

"What about when you're out with other women? Are you going to let me make sure you're being modest?"

Rick's expression turned sober. "I don't think you'll have anything to worry about. I broke it off with Jessie."

Michonne's surprise registered on her face. "What happened?" she asked in a soft voice, her brow wrinkling with concern.

Rick sighed wearily. "I went over to her house last night. Late last night, after you and I talked. Things went too far and I..." He swallowed hard. "I almost slept with her." He looked into Michonne's eyes. "My whole life I've only made love to one woman, my wife. And now there I was, about to hop in bed with someone I barely knew. It doesn't make any sense, even to me."

"You're lonely, Rick", she sympathized. "I know how it is. It's... it's been too long. _Too long for both of us_ ," she finished in a whisper.

They stood there a moment, gazing at one another, not moving or speaking. Finally, Michonne asked, "You said you _almost_ slept with her. So what happened?"

"Ron came downstairs and nearly caught us. Jessie asked me to hide, so I did. I swear, it was like something out of a bad soap opera. And she told me that she had no intention of being seen with me. I guess it was just fine for me to be in her bed, as long as no one knew about it. Apparently, I'm something to be ashamed of."

"No, no, Rick," Michonne insisted, shaking her head. "She shouldn't have treated you like that. You deserve so much better."

"I feel like such a — such a — a _tool_ ," Rick muttered, lines of disgust and anger appearing at either side of his nose.

Michonne gently cupped his face in her hands. "You are the best man that I know, Rick Grimes. You deserve all of the love and affection a good woman has to offer you."

He ran his hands up her forearms and onto her bare shoulders, tracing the ridge of her clavicle with his thumbs. "Stay," he requested in a whisper.

Her eyebrows raised slightly in surprise. "What?"

"Don't go tonight. Stay with me." He knew it was the most selfish thing he could say, but the words just tumbled out of his mouth. He tilted his face towards hers, but she lowered her head and directed her words towards his feet.

"Rick, I can't. It would be rude to Morgan. I can't just... I can't just call it off because you want to hang out with me tonight. I'd be happy to commiserate with you about shitty exes tomorrow, but I just can't tonight."

She didn't understand. He had to make her understand.

"Fine, then. Morgan gets his date tonight. But I get mine tomorrow night. I'll put on your favorite movie, pop some popcorn, give you a foot massage. I can give one hell of a foot massage. Bet you didn't know that. And I don't want to talk about my exes. I want to spend the evening focused on you and me."

Michonne's looked up at him, her eyes sparkling. "Rick, are you asking me for a date?"

"I am, indeed." He nodded firmly.

"Well, alright then. I accept." And her smile lit up the room.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Part 1

As soon as Michonne and Morgan had left on their date, Rick walked next door and asked (or begged, really) Maggie to host everyone at her home the following evening.

"I need them out of the house," he explained. "Just for one night."

Maggie gave him a knowing look and responded, "Sounds to me like it's time for a Family Game Night. I'll let everyone know that their presence will be required."

With one obstacle out of the way, Rick made his way to the community pantry to take care of the next one. The pantry was where everyone went not only for food but also for medicine and toiletries and household items; it served as the general store for all of Alexandria. It would be closing soon, but he still had a few minutes to take care of business. _Just in case_ , he told himself. _Just in case._ Rick strode in and saw that Jessie was on duty, helping another resident get what she needed. _Of course_ , Rick grumbled to himself, _but I'll be damned if I'll let that stop me._ He waited until the other resident left, then picked a box of condoms up off a shelf. He walked over to Jessie sitting at the check-out area and boldly placed the box on the counter, keeping his expression perfectly unreadable.

"That'll be it for today," he said serenely.

Jessie's eyes widened and darted back and forth between the box and his face. She didn't move for a long moment, as if trying to evaluate if this were some sort of joke at her expense.

"How's Ron? Better than this morning?" He was careful to keep his tone tranquil.

"He's fine," Jessie responded from between clenched teeth.

When Rick simply stood there and said nothing further, she checked off the item on her list and turned her back to him. Rick picked up his box and placidly ambled to the exit.

He returned home and waited as patiently as he could to discover the outcome of the last obstacle. He went through the motions of the evening — dinner with Carol and Daryl and the kids, bathing Judith and reading her a bedtime story before tucking her into her crib — but all the while, his mind was utterly preoccupied. Now, he sat in his bed, book in hand.

"The gods, not out of mercy, have made me strong..." Rick read for hundredth time. He sighed and set his book aside. For the last hour, he'd been alternating checking his bedside digital clock and staring at the same page without comprehending what he was reading. He rubbed his eyes and looked at the clock yet again. 12:06 am. _I should have given her a curfew_ , he grumbled to himself. _Not that she would have paid any attention to it._

Through the open entryway of his bedroom, he heard the front door being opened. Subdued laughter and hushed whispers floated up from downstairs. Softly, Rick swung his legs over the side of his bed and padded down the hall. As silently as he could, he crept down the stairs and stopped just before the landing. Peeking around the corner, he saw Michonne and Morgan standing close to one another in the living room. He knew he should feel guilty about spying on them, but he truly didn't care. _Privacy be damned_ , he thought. _All's fair in love and war, right? And this is kind of like both, so..._

"...you for a lovely evening," Michonne was saying. "It was wonderful to just spend the time relaxing and getting to know you better."

"Well, thank you for gracing me with your company. Did I tell you how exquisite you look tonight?"

Michonne responded with her throaty laughter. "Only about a dozen times," she teased.

Rick ground his teeth. _Are you kidding me?_

Morgan leaned in close, and Rick realized that he was going for a kiss. _Okay, that's it!_ he thought furiously, and he had to grip the handrail to stop himself from springing out of his hiding place and putting a stop to this nonsense. But at just the last moment, Michonne turned her face away and presented him with her cheek. Morgan paused, surprised, for a split second, but pressed his lips against her flawless skin.

"I would very much like to do this again," Morgan confessed. "Would you do me the honor of spending another evening with me? Perhaps in a day or two?"

 _Hell no_ , Rick thought. _Hell no!_

Michonne glanced down at the floor and hesitated. When she spoke, her voice was soft and calming, as if she was trying to blunt the edge of what she was saying. "Morgan, do you think that we could be friends?"

" _Just_ friends?" he emphasized lightly.

"I think that would be for the best." She took his hand in hers. "I mean it, though. I'm not just trying to let you down easy. You're a wonderful man, and I'm so glad you're here now with all of us. I truly would like for you and I to be friends."

Morgan smiled gently at her. "We already are. And I think I understand. Perhaps this has something to do with Rick?"

Michonne paused for a moment before nodding. "It does. I'm not sure yet where that's heading, but I think it might go somewhere good, and I want to see it through."

"Of course. And you know where to find me if it doesn't work out."

Rick glided up the stairs, thankful that the harsh circumstances of the world had taught him to move without making noise. He'd heard enough to settle his mind and didn't feel the need to stick around any longer. With an elated grin on his face, he returned to his bedroom and quietly shut the door. A few minutes later, he heard Michonne's soft footfalls in the hallway outside as she made her way to her own room.

Part 2

The next evening found Michonne and Rick on the couch, enjoying the exceedingly rare pleasure of a quiet house. They had shared a bowl of popcorn as Rick had promised, sitting close together during the first half of her favorite movie, laughing together at all the funny parts, but Rick had declared an intermission in order to grab a couple of bottles of beer. When he returned from the kitchen with two ice-cold bottles, he sat down on the couch, patted his lap, and said, "C'mere."

Michonne's eyes nearly popped out of her head. "You want me to sit on your lap?"

Rick laughed heartily. "No, your feet. I made you a promise, remember?"

 _How could I forget?_ She thought to herself. Her time on the road had been rough on her feet, and she had felt the need to spend part of the morning exfoliating her heels and giving herself a pedicure. It felt silly and self-indulgent to be spending time on painting her toenails while the world went to hell outside Alexandria's walls, but if Rick's hands were going to be down there, she wanted her feet to be worthy of his attention.

She placed her feet squarely in his lap, her long legs stretched between them. She had decided to wear shorts, though she usually preferred pants, hoping his attention would spread upward from her feet if he had bare skin to encourage him. The sexual tension between them had been especially palpable the last few days, and Michonne wanted to give him every reason to think tonight was their lucky night.

Rick slid the palm of his left hand under one of her feet, cradling her heel in his hand. Placing the thumb of his right hand against her arch, he rubbed in slow circles, first in one direction, then in the other. He gently grasped her big toe between his thumb and index finger and squeezed lightly several times before moving on to the next toe, working his way to the smallest one. He proceeded to massage small clockwise circles into the ball of her foot under each digit, working backward from her pinkie to her big toe. Finally, he let her heel rest on his lap as he grasped the sides of her foot with both hands, and worked his thumbs in opposing circular motions moving down from the ball of her foot towards her heel. He squeezed and rubbed harder the lower he went, and Michonne loved the pressure he was applying.

The movie was still playing, but it was entirely forgotten at this point. As Rick moved on to her other foot, Michonne closed her eyes and laid her head back. She said, "You weren't lying. You really are good at this."

"I never make promises I can't keep," he murmured as his hands continued to work their magic.

"You're a fighter, but your hands haven't forgotten how to caress, have they?" she questioned softly.

At this, Rick stopped the slow circles his thumbs were making and brought her foot up to his mouth. He kissed her arch, slowly, sensually, keeping his eyes on her face to gauge her reaction. She gave him a small, seductive smile of encouragement, and he kissed her ankle next. It was so good to feel his lips soft against her skin. He trailed kisses up her calf, gently pushing her legs apart to make room for himself between them. As his lips made their way to her inner thigh, she was suddenly very glad she had decided to wear shorts. Warm pulses spread through her pussy with every kiss, every caress, and the higher up her leg he went, the stronger her desire for him grew. Finally, he had gone as far up her thigh as he could go, and his head hovered over her pelvis. He lowered his head to her womanhood, and she could feel his kisses pressing against her even through the shorts. He nuzzled her with his nose, rubbing against her clit as he did so, and sparks shot through her whole pussy.

" _Rick_ ," she moaned out, and reached for him, grasping him by the shoulders. He pulled himself up and slid atop her, his hips pushing gently against hers as their mouths met eagerly. She opened her mouth to him, and his tongue danced with hers. He increased the pressure of his hips against her, and she could clearly feel his erection pressing against her womanhood. She wrapped her legs around his waist and blindly untucked his shirt with her hands, eager to touch his bare skin. The feel of his hard muscles under her fingers as she explored his back and shoulders was like the stoking of a fire. One of his hands were up under her shirt, stroking the smooth skin of her belly, while he supported himself over her with the other. She broke their kiss and brought her lips to his ear, first teasing it with her tongue, then sucking his earlobe into her mouth. His low moan of pleasure made her breath catch, and she whispered in his ear, "Not here. Upstairs, my room."

As he sat up, she had to resist a strong urge to straddle his lap right then and there. Instead, she took him by the hand and led him up the stairway, noting the pronounced bulge in his jeans. Once in her room, Rick unfastened his gun belt, placing it on the top of her chest of drawers, then gathered her in his arms again. His lips sought hers, then moved down to her neck. He sucked at the delicate skin he found there, and Michonne clung to his shoulders as his hands moved under her shirt and over her back, then downwards toward her ass. He firmly grasped her cheeks in both hands, pushing her up against his bulging erection. He ground against her for several thrusts, mimicking the strokes she could hardly wait for him to give her. He slid his hands up to her breasts, between her shirt and her bra, cupping one in each hand and gently squeezing.

"Rick," she whispered. "Undress me."

He immediately complied, grasping the hem of her tank top and gently pulling it over her head. He crouched down on his knees as he unzipped her shorts and slowly slid them down her legs. She stepped out of them so that she was standing before him in only her ivory bra and thong. She thanked heaven that she'd had the presence of mind to borrow a bra from Rosita earlier that day, a pretty, lacy number that matched her thong perfectly.

Rick slid his hands up the back of her thighs and drew in a breath when he came in contact with her bare cheeks. He rubbed and squeezed them as he kissed the space between her navel and the waistband of her panties. He slid his thumbs under her thong at each side by her hips and, so slowly it tortured her, pulled her panties down to her feet. He gazed at her bare pussy and raised one of his hands, sliding a finger through her slit, gently, slowly. She was already so wet that the sound made by that contact filled the air around them. Rick groaned again. He leaned forward, grasped her by the hips, and gave her pussy a kiss, his mouth caressing her swollen outer lips. She wanted to tangle her fingers in his hair, grind her pussy against his face, but he didn't stay there. He rose to his feet, her moisture shining on his lips, and kissed her long and deep. His mouth found her cleavage, his tongue roaming over the top half her breasts left bare by the demi cups of the bra, before seeking her lips again. His hands slid around to her back and reached the clasp of her bra. As he unhooked it, he broke the kiss and took a tiny step back from her. Slowly, achingly slowly, he slid the straps of her bra off her shoulders and down her arms, pulling the cups away from her body. The bra fell to the floor, and she stood before him in all her naked glory. He took in the sight of her flawless chocolate skin, her perfect teardrop-shaped breasts with their high-slung nipples, the firm muscles in her belly and arms and thighs paired so perfectly with her tiny waist and the voluptuous curve of her hips. She was hard in all the right places and soft in all the right places, and he could hardly believe that he was the one she was naked and waiting for. He felt like the luckiest man on earth.

But she thought that it was hardly fair that he was still wearing all of his clothes. She pulled his t-shirt over his head, delighted in the sight of his muscular chest and stomach. His pecs were covered with salt-and-pepper hair, just the right amount, in her opinion. His biceps flexed as he drew her naked body against his bare chest, and her nipples rubbed pleasurably against his skin. Her hands trailed down the line of hair leading to his navel, then traced over the hard ridges of his abs, before moving lower to finger the lines of his Adonis belt.

"God, that's so sexy, Rick," she moaned, and he flushed deep red at her compliment. She couldn't wait any longer. She quickly unbuckled his belt and unfastened his jeans, pulling them down. He stepped out of them, toeing off his socks as he did so. His boxer briefs did little to conceal his enormous bulge, and she didn't hesitate to slide her palm back and forth over it several times. He groaned loudly at the contact and his breathing grew heavier, louder. Now it was her turn to get down on her knees, and she grasped his underwear at either side of his hips as she did so. She pulled straight down so that his erection caught on the waistband. She kept pulling, and his cock sprang out all at once, bouncing in front of her face. He stepped out of his underwear as she gasped with pleasure and took hold of his shaft with one hand. Her eyes were wide and a smile played around her mouth.

"You like what I have for you?" he asked her, though he surprised himself by asking such a bold question, and his blush deepened. A naughty grin spread over her lips. The truth was, he was simply huge. In girth, he was somewhat larger than average, but his length was astonishing. One look and she knew there was no way she was going to fit all of that dick inside of her. She wrapped both her hands around him, one next to the other, and his cock still had several inches to spare.

"If I would have known you had a dick this big waiting for me," she responded breathily, "I would have been fucking you this whole time." She leaned forward and gave his shaft a kiss. "Can I go down on you?"

"Oh, hell yes," he said quickly, and shuddered with pleasure when she licked her way up his length. His wife had never been interested in oral sex, neither giving nor receiving — she had said it made her feel dirty, and Rick wasn't the kind of man to pressure a woman to do something in bed she didn't want to do — and as he watched Michonne's tongue twirl around the glistening red head of his cock, he thought he might have died and gone to heaven. _No, I haven't died yet_ , he decided as he watched her pretty lips envelope his dick, sucking him hard, _but this might just do me in._ When she swallowed him down, deep-throating him so that the muscles of her throat clenched and unclenched around his cock, he lost the ability to form coherent thoughts. She brought him to the brink of orgasm so fast that he cried out, begging her to stop.

Michonne pulled her head back and released his cock from her mouth with a loud popping sound, but she wrapped a hand around his shaft and slowly pumped as she looked up at him. "What's wrong?" she asked, feigning innocence. "You don't like it?" That same teasing smile tugged at her lips.

"No, I like it too much," he gasped. "You keep on like that, and I won't last much longer. I want to be able to make love to you."

"Don't worry about that," she cooed, and gently grasped his balls in her other hand. He groaned as she massaged them. "You feel like you're about to explode. I need to get you off now, and then we can take our time."

He nodded his consent, and she took his dick into her mouth again, first swallowing him down like before. Then she slid her mouth up his length and sucked hard on his head while pumping his shaft with one hand, her other still gripping his balls. His legs shook and his fingers threaded through her dreads. It wasn't long before he bucked his hips, fucking her mouth, for a few thrusts, and he cried out, moaning her name as his cum shot out, hitting the back of her throat. She eagerly drank it all down, sucking hard as she squeezed his balls, coaxing every last drop from him. When the orgasm released him, and he stumbled slightly, she came up for air and licked him all over, cleaning his sticky seed from his skin and swallowing it. His mouth was open and he was breathing hard, his body slick with sweat, his mind barely able to comprehend what she had just done to him.

She rose to her feet and pressed her body against his, her arms wrapping around the back of his neck. He rested his hands on the cheeks of her ass, squeezing them, and kissed her deeply. It was strange to taste himself on her mouth, but he decided that he wasn't going to let that keep him away from her lips. He walked her backward to the bed and very gently pushed her down onto it. She scooted back, giving him some room, and he laid himself down between her legs, propping himself up on an elbow. He flicked his tongue over her nipples, first one and then the other.

"Suck it," she whispered to him, and he smiled at her dirty talk before latching on to one of her tits. He decided that he loved it when she told him what she wanted. He sucked hard at her nipple, rolling his tongue over the bud in his mouth, and pinched gently at the other one. She gasped and squirmed beneath him, and he switched the position of his hand and lips. He sucked for a while before pulling back and covering both of her breasts with his flattened palms, rolling them in slow circles over her nipples. He traced his fingers over the sumptuous curve of her tits, loving the way they jutted out to the side when she laid on her back. He kissed down her taut belly, all the way to her pussy, and drew his tongue through her slit. Her hips trembled, and she moaned loudly.

"You are so gorgeous," he murmured. "Even your pussy is beautiful." When she giggled, he said, "I'm serious. I've never seen so pretty a pussy." He pulled back slightly and confessed, "I want to return the favor, but I think you're a lot more experienced at this than me."

She smiled gently at him. "It's okay. You're doing great so far. We'll figure it out as we go along."

He nodded and bent his head to her again. He covered her outer lips in soft kisses, then gently spread her pussy with his hands. She opened her legs wider to give him all the access he needed. He used his tongue to trace the shape of both her outer and inner lips, then circled her opening with it.

"Yeah, that feels good," she encouraged him breathily.

He slid the middle finger of his right hand through her folds to slick it in her juices. He pushed his finger inside of her, gently, slowly. She groaned in response to the penetration. Her walls were snug and warm and slippery-wet as he pumped his finger in and out. He added his ring finger, and her groans grew louder.

He covered her clit with his lips as he finger-fucked her, sucking at it and licking it gently. Her body began to shake beneath him, and her fingers tangled in his hair.

"Yes, yes, keep doing that!" she directed enthusiastically. "Lick my clit, Rick!"

He used his two fingers to make a come-hither motion, pressing on her G-spot, as he flicked his tongue rapidly over her bud of nerves. Her walls clenched around his fingers, released, then clenched again.

"Oh, God, I'm so close!" Michonne cried out. "Don't stop! Don't ever stop!"

She released her grip on his hair and brought her hands up to her breasts. She rolled and pinched her nipples as he worked her pussy. He had never seen anything so sexy in all his life. She ground her hips against his face, and all at once, she came, her juices squirting out and drenching his face, soaking into his beard.

"Rick, Rick, Rick! Oh, fuck, Rick!" she called his name over and over again. When her convulsions stopped and he was confident her orgasm was over, he rose up from between her legs. He rolled onto his back and pulled her onto his lap. His cock was rock-hard again, and he was eager to get inside her. But he had to tell her first. It wouldn't fair to her, otherwise.

"Michonne," he said tenderly, looking deep into her eyes. "I want to make love to you. But you have to understand, more than that, I want to love you. And I already do. I love you, Michonne. I'm in love with you. You deserve to know that now, before this goes further."

She rewarded him with a smile of genuine, heartfelt joy. "I'm in love with you, too. I think I have been for a long time."

Her smile with contagious. "I'm glad we both figured it out," he chuckled and pulled her down for a deep, long kiss. "Now," he said, his smile turning mischievous. "How do you want it?"

"Just like this. I wanna ride you."

He wasn't about to argue with that. He was so horny that he forgot all about protection, but she was more responsible than him.

"We just have one problem. Uhm... do you have any condoms?" Michonne asked.

"Just so happens I do. They're in my bedroom, in the drawer of my nightstand."

"Good thing the house is empty," Michonne teased him, sliding off his lap. She walked across the hall and fetched the condoms, knowing that he would enjoy watching her walk around naked. She returned and closed and locked the door behind her. She fished a condom out of the box and handed it to him. He tore open the wrapper and rolled it down over his erect dick. She watched with immense anticipation. His big cock was pointing straight up at the ceiling, and she couldn't wait to get on it.

"Get up here," he growled, and she giggled, obeying immediately.

She straddled his lap, and he grasped her thighs. She took his long, hard dick in hand, positioning her hips over his head. She lined him up with her opening and then slowly eased her hips down, taking his cock inside her pussy one inch at a time. He stretched and filled her magnificently, and she felt so warm and tight around him that his eyes rolled back in his head. She took him in as far as he could go, though there were still several inches of his dick between their bodies. She'd never had a man so huge, and she was loving every second of it.

"How do you feel?" he asked, giving her hips a squeeze.

"Like you've stuffed me full of cock," she breathed out, and he grinned. _There she goes again with that dirty talk_ , he thought. _God, I love that._

He brought his hands up to her breasts and fondled them gently as she began to slowly roll her hips on his dick. She soon grew more comfortable, and her movements became faster and more graceful. Her body moved like fluid over him, her hips undulating and her slick pussy sliding up and down his shaft. She alternated between riding him straight up and down and rotating her hips in a circle on his cock. She was so wet, her juice flowing down his dick, that his pelvis was soaking wet, his balls dripping with it, the sheet beneath them saturated with it. She rode him faster, and her tits bounced every time she moved up and down, a sight that turned him on even more. He found her clit and worked his thumb over it, making her call his name all over again.

"Oh, fuck me, Rick! Yes! God, your dick is so good! Fuck me harder!"

He drilled up into her, meeting her enthusiastic thrusts with his own as she bounced on his dick. He was so thankful that she'd gotten him off earlier. He knew there was no way he could have handled this otherwise. As it was, he was barely hanging on, only sheer willpower keeping him from tumbling over the brink. He wanted to kiss and lick and suck and fuck all night, but he knew he was about to reach his limit.

Her second orgasm hit her hard, her walls tightening so much that he felt like his cock might be squeezed right off. There was no way to withstand that. He came right along with her, his seed pouring out in a torrent. They both kept their eyes open and on one another, their pupils dilated with pleasure, their mouths open and gasping at the pleasure they were giving one another, riding out the waves of ecstasy.

Michonne collapsed on top of him, and they laid there like that for a long while, catching their breath and coming down from their high. Eventually, she slid off his softening dick and rolled to the side. She watched him as he pulled off the used condom and wiped himself up with the tissues on her bedside table, discarding it all in the trashcan next to the table. When he had finished taking care of business, he laid back down with her on the bed, pulling her close. She rested her head on his chest, the sound of his heartbeat pounding softly in her ear. He wrapped his arms around her, smoothing a few of her dreads away from her face, and kissed her forehead.

"Stay the night with me?" she asked.

"Always." He squeezed her tight. "I love you."

"I love you, too."


End file.
